


silence is bittersweet

by ambrolleignsgirl



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU, Ambrolleigns - Freeform, Fic, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambrolleignsgirl/pseuds/ambrolleignsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Ambrolleigns soulmates au</p>
<p>I could write 500k of this...</p>
<p>Dean is a prince set to inherit the throne from his father. He is continuously forced to endure tedious meetings of Kings who fight about everything. His mother thinks he should pay attention, but Dean is incredibly bored. He finds relief in people watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	silence is bittersweet

I took “au” way too seriously and “short fic” not seriously enough. I could write 500k about this…

  _Solo quedate en silencio,_ slash, ambrolleigns, medieval Kings au

 

* * *

 

Dean was bored out of his mind. He's been scolded by his mother- time and time again- about paying attention to these meetings, because "you'll be king one day."

 

Ugh. Whatever. He's 27, he's not going to be king tomorrow. Although, tensions were rising between the Westerly Kingdoms and his own. Or his _father’s_ kingdom, he should say. Either way, it was something about trade or assassination attempts or...hmm. Maybe he should pay more attention. But it's not going to happen now.

 

Sure, this might be the first time all the diplomats are gathered in the same room since the tensions began after they conquered the Mezoic Chain of Isles, which marked the first ever truce among them. But Dean is more focused on people watching. There's a lot you can learn from just looking, if the elite level combat insignia pinned to his lapel has anything to say about it. And right now, Dean is having a wonderful time watching two people in particular. Prince Pretty and Prince Do-Me are both fascinating subjects for his social experiments.

 

Prince Pretty is all hair, grey eyes and beauty, but only on the surface. If Dean stares just a little harder, he can see the brute strength in those tense muscles. He's sitting rim rod straight and has been the whole time. Clearly, he’s had a stern household and the importance of these meetings and his future has been drilled into his head since he was born. He's trained- in what is trickier to decipher- and if Dean was a betting man, he'd say sword and shield. Classic, but a strength advantage will win every time. Dean himself is all limbs and eccentricity, which is why hand-to-hand is his specialty. He was born a brawler not a magnificent specimen of a human like this guy. He might have to change Prince Pretty's name to Prince Powerhouse.

 

Prince Do-Me, however, will forever be named that. He's had a persistent downward turn to his lips, resembling a pout more than anything else. His two toned hair and pretty pretty lips suggest a deceptively delicate nature. But one good look and you can't miss the trim, lithe body. It too screams _fuck me now and until the time of my death_ , but it wasn't built for that. Prince Do-Me has built himself that way intentionally. His build suggests speed and Dean's got his money on archery. Pretty Lips has likely never missed a bulls-eye in his life. His body is built for the speed and agility of an archer.

 

Dean would've jumped as various kings rose and began shouting over each other, but that would've let on how little he'd been paying attention. He watches as the men quibble back and forth about various issues. Money, land, goods, and armies. It's never anything different. Prince Do-Me seems to be on the same page as their eyes meet. He looks utterly annoyed by the frivolous confrontations. Dean knows because his face has looked back at him the same way in the mirror many times over. His eyes shift to Prince Powerhouse and he's surprised to find him looking put out, too. Dean's sure he's not questioning his values; the argument is probably quite trivial. Dean wouldn't know though because he hasn't paid a single second of attention. Nor does he give a damn. He doesn't want to be king, but that's a problem for another day.

 

An idea pops into his head, and he doesn't have a lot of confidence in it, but it's worth a try. He sends a meaningful glance to Prince Do-Me followed immediately by one to Prince Powerhouse and topped off with one at the door. Prince Do-Me quirks an eyebrow, looking impressed and as though he's challenging Dean. Prince Powerhouse remains oblivious because Dean doesn't have a great angle to try and command eye contact. So he quirks an eyebrow in response and throws a glance a Powerhouse. Pretty Lips smirks and immediately goes about capturing Powerhouse's attention. It works quickly and Dean suddenly has all of his attention. He does the same series of glances he threw at Prince Do-Me, but Powerhouse frowns. He's gonna need some bait, which won't be too hard because powerhouses typically have short fuses.

 

He shifts his eye contact to Prince Do-Me and rolls his eyes in annoyance. Do-Me smirks, looks at Powerhouse, and rolls his eyes back. Powerhouse tenses and rolls his own eyes before standing discreetly and moving towards the door. Prince Do-Me and Dean smirk at each other before doing the same. They slip out together and Dean leads them silently through the corridors and out into the gardens.

 

They're his favorite place to come visit, even now in the dead of winter. The palace is amazing, but here, the weight of it seems less immense. He strolls out down the path, not checking if they are following. There's a tingling in his spine he’s trying to ignore that lets him know just fine. He approaches the large pond frozen by the bitter cold. In the middle of it is a statue of one of his great-grandparents. He walks up to the ledge and leans over it. They follow suit, one on each side of him.

 

It's peaceful and silent as they look out to the pond and beyond it to the hills of the kingdom. The only sound is their breathing, visible in little puffs in the cold, frigid air.

 

"Why are we out here?" Powerhouse asks, voice quiet. Dean smirks a little because the garden has a way of hushing every part of him. His voice, his breath, and even his mind.

 

"Why not?" Prince Do-Me leans out a bit further to look past Dean at Powerhouse. His tone indicative of every bit the troublemaker Dean can tell he is.

 

"Because all the important leaders of every kingdom are back inside?"

 

"So?" Dean and Prince Do-Me shoot back at the same time.

 

"Roman," Prince Do-Me does Dean the pleasure of giving him Powerhouse's name. _Roman_. He's not even a little surprised. A name embedded with the pride of his heritage. "Who cares? It's not like anyone gives a damn what we have to say," he finishes. Dean yearns with all his heart to find out Do-Me's name and learn how to stop him from deflating like he just did ever again.

 

"Seth," Roman sighs, answering Dean's prayer without even knowing. He says nothing else. Perhaps his companions have discussed this before? Although, Dean feels the same so it's likely more the fact that it's true.

 

Dean reaches out and wraps his arms around Roman and Seth, pulling them in tighter. He tries to ignore the sparks shooting up and down his arm at the contact. Seth jumps a little and whips his head up to look at Dean; he's felt it, too. Roman definitely did, as well. Dean saw the gust of air pushed forcibly out of his lungs. Huh. So it's not just him.

 

"Guys," he starts, voice shaking slightly from the emotion surging through him. "Our kingdoms will be ours someday, it seems kind of inevitable. But our lives belong to us for now. Let's enjoy it, shall we?" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, hearing Seth and Roman do so as well. Together they open their eyes and gaze out into the world.

 

There are so many things to see and experience. Dean wants to just go out and be himself, with no regard to tax rates or pasture yields or death tolls. He just wants to breathe in different air and go on an adventure.

 

He doesn't need them to voice it; he just _knows_ Seth and Roman do, too. Seth sighs and leans his head on Dean's shoulder. Roman stretches his own arm out to pull them both in tighter.

 

Maybe after they all become king, they can tell everyone to shove it and go have adventures for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it. yes, the original title was spanish :)


End file.
